Dead.

This is going to be very random like my pulse right now. I drank two mugs of coffee. Hard burnt coffee. And it feels like I’m either too excited to die or I’m too aerobic to sit still. The heck. I shall never ever down two mugs of coffee in an hour again. The shivers are coming.

Why do we kids rant about nonsensical spurs of sarcasm filled with inside jokes and insensitivity? Just a thought.

Does anybody know how to control one’s pulse? Mine is pumping like crazy. I can’t think straight. Am I dying?

My once high level of productivity is slowly sucking out my intelligence, and is now dramatically diminishing. If only I can optimize my life through the derivation of my work. I hate this. Calculus is taking over my life. Hold that thought. I am letting my subjects take over my life. And I cannot live up to what I stepped into. This is getting longer than I expected. Palpitations, please do stop.

edit.

The day is over. It’s all over. Thanks dear friend for helping me out. I’m so thankful and sorry and I don’t know why I won’t stop. Though there’s that great impulsive desire to enumerate what happened and whatnot, I shut up. Please tell me there’s a possibility of the probable existence of peradventure highs.

I like. Yes, like Borat.

Farewell, days of assuming. Farewell, ZICREE DAYS. haha. Euphoric days over the weekend. I’m planning to swim and run and probably get things straight and end and start things and discover what I really want.

That’s a pretty hard thing to muster if you’ve not had any form of rest for the past 48 hours.

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